


Nowhere Left to Hide

by ScribbleWillow (Soul_in_the_Starlight)



Series: Dark Shines [4]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional Abuse, F/M, Mental Abuse, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2017-11-17 09:18:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soul_in_the_Starlight/pseuds/ScribbleWillow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor can never be free of his own creation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nowhere Left to Hide

She sleeps now, her burning fury having consumed all her strength, and she lays on the bed, covered only in a thin sheet and the accidental modesty of her disheveled hair.

Sometimes he allows himself to creep in to be near her. He kneels on the floor at the side of the bed, drinking in the liquid porcelain of her form as it restores itself to terrifying power.

He should use this time to run away, to be free of her, but she binds him to her, even in the near-death of her profound slumber.

He looks down at his forearms, the bruises slowly fading, but not so the bruises on his mind, they ache and throb, the dark stains of realisation that his fate lies in those slender, open hands.

He sometimes sleeps in her room, curled up like a faithful dog at the foot of her bed, dreaming in shattered starbursts of the time when she made him feel loved. But not tonight.

Tonight he gets up from his position of penance, and wanders. Aimlessly, without purpose, hoping to seek out something, anything that will give him comfort. There's no-one to hold him, to listen to his sorrow, his guilt, his regret. 

He made her.

In those long endless days of his life when he was alone, he had never felt so hopeless as this. There had always been hope. Hope that he would find someone to be his forever.

She had buried that hope in the dust of a thousand dead stars.

He wandered round the console room for hours, til his bare feet were all but bleeding from the grating on the floor. The TARDIS whispered softly in the corners of his mind, and he hummed along with her, swaying like one in a trance.

Her melancholy music poured oil on the wounds in his soul, and gradually he was lost to her tenderness. She fed the starving man that longed to taste just an ounce of sweetness in the bitter pool of fear in which he drowned. He fed til his hearts would explode.

Then soft arms were around him. Donna had woken.

She was wrapped in the sheet, hair tousled, a smile on her lips like sleepy child. His head swam with the possibility that she had returned to him, as she wrapped herself about his waist and lay her head on his chest.

He stroked her hair with a trembling hand, savouring the tenderness that deep down he knew wouldn't last.

She lifted her head to look up at him, her eyes wide with possibility, ablaze like nascent suns.

"I need you inside me," she whispers, feeling him harden before the words even fade.

She reaches up and cups his face, the sheet falling to the floor, pooled like melted ice cream at her feet; his demonic Venus, born from the shell of his emptiness.

She pulls his face towards her, bringing her lips to his ear, her voice so darkly loving.

"I have to hurt you, you know that. It's only the sound of your screams that make me real."


End file.
